/"S 3509 
•073 P3 



and 



^ 




J. Clarence Edwards 



\ 



TO MY MOTHER 

Whose devotion and enthusiasm has always made 

my cause her own, and to whose intelligence 

and Christian influence I owe my every 

accomplishment, this little volume 

is affectionately dedicated. 



Pastime Puns 

and 

Poems 



BY 

J. Clarence Edwards 



COPYRIGHTED 1915 



A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR. 

To the end that the reader may know something 
of the history and personality of the author of this 
little volume, the following brief sketch is given by 
his publisher: 

J. Clarence Edwards was born on a farm in East 
Texas in the year 1888, which means that this vol- 
ume of highly meritorious verse, sparkling wit and 
excellent philosophy is the product of, I may say, a 
mere boy, yet in his twenties. 

In this connection it should be borne in mind 
that the author has had no idle moments in which 
to dream and court the muse as poets and philoso- 
phers are wont to do, but the golden gems within 
this modest little volume have been produced ex- 
temporaneously, during rare occasional moments 
snatched from the arduous and busy commercial 
duties incident to earning a living as a stenographer. 

Also, Mr. Edwards has been denied the advan- 
tages of a college career, enjoyed by most boys of 
his age; moreover, he bears the distinction of never 
having attended a graded school, and what he knows 
of a High School he learned from those who have 
been there. It is his belief, however, that you can't 
cheat a man, or a boy, of his education when the de- 
termination is there, and under this conviction he 
has qualified himself to interest, entertain, yea, 
even to instruct the High School graduate or the Col- 
lege student, yet at the same time strike common 
ground with the humble plowman. 

At the age of 15, he went out upon his own re- 
sources. His technical schooling ended there, but 
there also his real schooling began. He has always 
been keenly observing, as his writings show; in 
fact he admits that he places great store in Obser- 
vation, as the following quotation from a series of 
pointed paragraphs which he recently wrote for the 
Daily Telegram will prove: 

"It may be true that 'Experience is the best Teacher' 
but Observation is a close second, and the tuition isn't 
nearly so high." 

As a boy on his father's farm he did the hard la- 



AUG 



.2i9!PCLA410343 ^^.(5^s 



bor of a farm hand, which gave little time for read- 
ing or study. His first job after leaving the farm 
was not an easy one, either — he took the first thing 
that came to hand, and within a few months saved 
enough money at the very unaesthetic avocation of 
sawing stock for a lumber mill to pay his way 
through a brief term in a commercial school. This 
advantage, coupled with his aptness to learn and de- 
termination to win, turned him out a proficient com- 
mercial stenographer. At present he is Private Sec- 
retary to the Division Superintendent of the Santa 
Fe Raihvay at Temple. 

During the past few months he has been a more 
or less regular contributor to the columns of the 
Temple Daily Telegram, for a time conducting a 
regular "Weather Verse" department for that pa- 
per, which was given the dignity of a "front page 
position." But this entire volume has been created 
entirely as a "sideline," he having always given the 
first consideration and his best efforts to his duties 
in the railroad office. As stated above, he has had 
no idle hours in which to dream; no idle days in 
which to commune with inspiring nature and weave 
his themes. 

With this brief sketch of the author, the little 
volume of "Pastime Puns and Poems" is offered 
for your kindly consideration. Dear Reader, with 
the cherished hope, on the part of the Author and 
the publisher, that it may commend your approval. 

THE PUBLISHER. 



TELEGRAM PUBLISHING COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 




TEMPLE, TEXAS 



A MAN YOU KNOW. 



You've seen the Gink, I know you have; 

He's always on the train 
When you can't get a berth — all hope 

To miss him is in vain! 
I mean the guy, at every stop 

Who rears up in his chair 
And breaks into your cat naps with, 

"What station is this here?" 

Of course he knows it's not his stop; 

He's not due home 'till day, 
And merely cuts into your sleep 

To have something to say. 
He doesn't know the difference when 

You name some other town, 
But, satisfied, he'll grunt, "Uh-huh," 

And calmly lay back down! 

^^t i^t f^$ ^^w 

FORCE OF HABIT. 



Sometimes w'en pa ain't got much time 

He est pours out a cup 
Uv coffee fer his breakfast and 

He drinks it standin' up. 
This mornin' w'en he done that way. 

One foot est tried to crawl 
On to some 'maginary thing 

W'at wuzn't there at all. 

I thought he'd plum forgot hisself 

A-hurryin' to get through, 
An' pawin' at the stove. I ast 

Ma, **W'at's he tryin' to do?" 
Ma says, ''It's est a matter of form; 

I've noticed it a heap — 
A kind of a la Grape Juice pose" — 

Nen pa looked est as cheap! 



WEN FRIDAY COMED AT SCHOOL.. 



Wen Friday comes at our school 

The teacher she est tries 
To ast us all some funny things 

Wat's hard to make replies; 
An' ef we can't she'll say we ort 

To know sech things by heart, 
An' nen she'll est puff out her chest 

As like she felt plum smart. 

Wen Friday comed last time, ''Who was 

The oldest man?" she said. 
An' one boy answered, "Adam! 'cause 

He wuz the first un made." 
That's right," she said, an' nen looked at 

That red faced Jones boy, Ben, 
An' says, ''Now tell me son, who is 

The oldest womern, then?" 

Ben shuttered like he oilers does 

An' nen his chin dropt down; 
He dumpt his gum out in his hand 

An' sorter fidgets 'roun', 
Nen raised up pickin' at his clothes 

An' quiverin' like a craft; 
He said, "I guess Miz Adam is!" 

An' nen we all est laughed! 



^* ^5* C(5* 



You would never think it has occurred to some 
if you judged by the young girl who pitches her 
conversation in High "C" as she waddles down the 
street, but it is nevertheless a fact that a blank 
cartridge makes just as much noise as one with « 
real bullet in it. 



WHERE MUCH DEPENDS. 



**United we stand, divided we fall," 

Thus quoted a junction of hooks and eyes; 
**And because I stick," said the pin, ''they all 

Have found me to be a useful device; 
But did I not stay, or you should disjoin 

At strenuous times, as often do men — 
Our duty regard less dearily than coin — - 

Think you we would hold our prominence then?" 

''The first skirt that ffell, or 'petty' that dropt, 

And our lack of vigilance found to blame. 
The women would meet, new measures adopt 

And vote us unfit for the hold-up game. 
And then, with a breach of duty to face — 

With penitent hearts and eyes steeped in wrath, 
We'd watch the old button regain its place — 

The zenith once more of womankind's faith!" 

«(5* ^^ c.5^ t^ 

THE DREADED BLOW. 



Within a showcase, side by side, 

A handkerchief and muffler lay, 
When gloomily the muffler cried, 

"This is no fittin' place to stay; 
I like the outdoors where it's cold, — 

To shield some thoughtless girl's bare chest- 
I love the frost, the snow, behold, 

When winter winds just blow their best." 

The handkerchief, composed and calm. 

Looked through its tissue veil and, free 
From wander-lust, replied, "The balm 

Of winter holds no charms for me; 
I love the bracing atmosphere, — 

I even love the frost, the snow — 
But as for mine, I'm happy here, 

For winter noses also blow!" 



WAT SKEERT PA UP! 



Wen Pa an' me wuz haulin' rails — 

But I est went to ride — 
An' movin' out a old rail fence 

Way back to t'other side, 
While Pa wuz loadin', all at once 

He frowed a big rail down 
An' menced a-grabbin' at his clothes 

An' actin' like a clown. 

You bet he* menced to take 'em off 

As' fast as how he could — 
A-squealin' like, and jumpin' till 

I thought, shore nuff, he would. 
I laughed, I did, I couldn't hold, 

An' told him, "Is it ants?" 
Nen pa got mad, fer it wuz est 

A lizzard in his pants. 

t$» t^ v$w 

FLEA, OR — FLEE! 



Willie Watkins had a dog 
He loved like all boys love their dogs; 
He made the canine down a bed 
Beneath the floor where bedded hogs: 
Next day when they were out at play, 
Will sighed, "Ole Sport, I'm awful shocked 
To find out you've contracted fleas. 
An' in the deal got overstocked. — 
I betcha been wiff on'ry hounds. 
Them inseks puts dogs on the bum. 
An' if you don't go flea yourself 
You'll haff to flee the wrath to come." 

5(^* C^* 5(5* 

When you take your leave from a party that has 
been a considerable bore, why is that the further 
away you get, the faster you walk? 

10 



WHY IS IT? 



The Piker builds no pikes 

And pepper won't make **pep," 

But strikers create strikes 
And lepers give us "lep." 

Her bloomers never bloom, 

The rafters will not raft, 
And boomers never boom, 

But Grafters always graft. 

The plumber plants no plums, 

The flitter doesn't flit, 
And drummers need no drums, 

But quitters always quit. 

The tippler gives no tip 

And scissors do not sizz, 
But dippers sometimes dip 

And whizzers pull the whizz! 

Our letters never let 

And dockets do not dock. 
Yet bettors sometimes bet 

And knockers always knock. 

Nay! Liquors never lick 

And puckers don't read Puck, 

But kickers always kick 
And Suckers always suck. 

The ginner makes no gin 

And jungles sell no junk, 
Though sinners all make sin 

And puns are alw^ays punk. 

^^9 i^B ^^t 

Calling forth the "better self" is no man's job- 
it takes a w^oman to inspire the best in us. 

11 



BASEBALL IN THE BLEACHERS. 



If you want to learn the baseball game, 

Don't waste your time at practice; 
Just get yourself a bleacher seat 

And listen, for the fact is. 
The bugs up there will put you next — 

A sort of baseball college 
Where wizards weave the theory play 

And boast about their knowledge. 

No use to chase the ball around 

For players all make errors; 
Just stay right by the two-bit brag 

And hear him rave in terrors: 
''That shortstop pulled a bone; he erred; 

He could have made a double" — 
The simp then sees the sides exchange 

And wonders what's the trouble. 

Two men were down already, so 

The shortstop didn't blunder; 
'Twas just the theory bleacher-bug 

Whose memory slipped asunder. 
And so it is with all his plays; 

When woven on the benches 
They're mighty good to talk about 

But blow up in the pinches! 



The saddest thought of tongue or pen 
Is this: A woman started sin. 



«<$• i$* «^ 

Why worry about what the other fellow thinks 
of you? His opinion of you may be as groundless 
as yours of him. 

12 



A FAD THAT HOLDS ITS OWN. 



I wish the guy who set the fad 

Of spitting Navy at a crack, 
Of saturating stair-way steps 

And spitting helpless knot-holes black, 
Would come again and hurl his might 

Against it with results as great 
And tell his patriotic sports 

The fad has gone plum out of date. 

It must be quite a bag o' fun — 

Perhaps a scientific skill, 
Where sportsmen pride their markmanship 

To slug the bull's-eye at th' will; 
It's strange all other fads have gone 

As custom sped the fleeting days. 
But nay! not this immortal sport! 

It simply stays, and stays, and stays! 

The crack-shot brings enough distaste, 

But Amateurs invade the game. 
And while they may try just as hard, 

They're shockingly untrue to aim — 
Or maybe that's a point as well — 

I'm not advised the "ins" and **outs" — 
That if you miss the bull's-eye plum. 

It's just as good at thereabouts. 

But if the bloke who started this 

Would voice himself against the fad. 
And tell his non-despairing sports 

The thing is now considered bad, 
If nothing more of good ensued, 

Some sorts of labor'd get right cheap — 
The Janitor, for one, I think. 

Would charge a whole heap less to sweep. 



13 



CUPID INVOLVED. 



Dan Cupid says that Times are fierce, 

He's always on the shove; 
That human hearts just won't behave— 

They want to fall in love. 

That even widows and old maids 

Get spoony now and then, 
And when the epidemic starts 

He's always shy o' men. 

He's all wrought up — don't understand 

Why men check up so shy, 
Especially since the census shows 

We've had a good supply. 

Somehow I think Dan's been asleep 

And let them slip away, 
Or else has been so pushed with work 

He's got behind the day. 

We've plenty men, Dan, don't despair, 
But just 'tween me and you, 

They're plantin' women on the jobs 
That menfolk used to do. 

Now if you really need some men. 

Just stop and think it o'er! 
No use to prowl around the home 

'Cause they ain't there no more. 

They're flocking to Domestic Schools— 
That's where you ought to look; 

Since women's took to politics 
The men must learn to cook. 



14 



PERTINENT QUESTIONS. 



What's a shirt without a tail? 
What's a boat without a sail? 
What's an egg without the ham? 
What's a drink without a dram? 
What's a cheese without a cracker? 
What's a chaw without tobacco? 
What's a shed without a cover? 
What's a lass without a lover? 
What's the game without a hit? 
What's a skirt without a slit? 
What's a rose without a thorn? 
What's a foot without a corn? 
What's a bee without a queen? 
What's a soup without a bean? 
What's an Angel but a Saint? 
What's a woman, minus paint? 
What's a flask without a stopper? 
What's a cop without a copper? 
What's a grate without a fire? 
What's a lawyer but a liar? 
What's a sheep without its wool? — 
And what's the use without the bull? 

fe5* c^ f^ 

IT DID, IT DID. 



The rain, incessant, poured and poured, 

But never could get poor. 
While restless breezes o'er it soared 

And never did get sore. 
And when at last the wind had laid 

And not an e^g, was found. 
Indignant night spread out her wings 

And sat upon the ground, 
And when the dawn appeared again 

And clouds had cleared away, 
The sun which set without an egg, 

Hatched off a brand-new day. 

15 



HORSE SENSE. 



The poor old weak and wobbly horse 

You stake out on a lot 
Where other stock have mowed the grass, 

And on the selfsame spot 
There's one to every ten square feet, 

Was never known to sigh: 
"There's not a chance to pick a meal," 

Or, "What's the use to try?" 

And yet how often have you seen 

A man, more versatile, 
Give up the goal because he feared 

His chance was not worth while? — 
Or just because he's handicapped 

By lack of longer rope 
Where Fate dealt him a close-grazed lot, 

Seek alms instead of Hope! 



^ 



OPTIMISTIC MIKE, 



Isaac Levi and Mike McRae 
Stood on the street one Christmas day. 
A dead-broke bum came up and said, 
**Len' me four bits on this rain-shed"— 
A gold-take-off-staff umbrell 
That, altogether, showed up swell. 
Ike gave the Vag a hoarded half 
And took the rain-stick with a laugh; 
But soon he muttered words red hot: 
"Vy, Mike, he leave der handle not, 
Dot vas of gold, der low-up schneak!" 
And Mike McRae said, "S-sh, yer freak! 
"Py Gollies, Ike, w'y should yer fret? 
Si, ain't yer got th' roof left yet!" 

16 



THE TRAIL OF FASHION. 



O fickle goddess Fashion is! 

Inconstant, ever changing; 
And while depicting one extreme 

Another she's arranging. 

The styles we see today, somehow 

We seldom see next season; 
How'er becoming, still they change — 

We never know the reason. 

In olden times, ten yards a skirt, 

(Our fathers so assert it). 
The sleeve contained not less than three 

And four yards didn't hurt it. 

But Madam Fashion, Fickle Queen, 
Grew tired of Custom's bobble, 

And on the plea, "Economy," 

Brought forth the puckered hobble. 

But this creation proved to be 

Our briefest fashion-martyr. 
And died away for want of source 

To get the hobble-garter. 

She then indulged a slight reform; 

The hobble-throng did sever, 
'Cause ere she did big ankles had 

No show to tread, whatever. 

And when the Dame appeared again 
She sprung the wearer's puzzle, 

Comprising of the choke-bore skirt 
Which binds from breech to muzzle. 

The display of contour was fine 

And gave the dame elation, 
But still the circuit was so short 

It hampered navigation. 

17 



She cried: ''I must retain that style, 
It gives effects so charming, 

And if I can nor swell the bore. 
Results will be alarming." 



"Let's see," she mused, **I can't improve 
The way those choke-bores fit 'em; 

I wonder how? — Why here's the scheme 
I'll merely take and split 'em. 

C^ (^ "V^* 

BEWARE IN SPRING! 



The spring is now on us 
And offers a bonus 

For loving and cooing 

And creatures to pair, 
But lovers and cooers. 
Fond Cupid pursuers. 

In donning love's shackles 

Beware! 

The weather is warmer 
And glad is the farmer; 

His mind is on planting 

And tilling the soil, 
But spooners and strollers 
And haughty high rollers 

Are sadder, we know, than 

Our sonnies of toil. 

When temperature rises 
The citizen buys his 

Porch swing an' suspends it — 

Improperly, true — 
And you who've been careless 
Will now have to share less 

Night walking waist measures 

Lest **porchers" see you! 

18 



CHICKEN HEARTED. 



Mrs. Cackleloud, a mother hen, 

Met little Mistress Newlywed 
Who, being asked her views of men, 

Drew on a bridal smile and said: 
"My husband's just a Prince to me; 

He hustles such delicious food, 
While I lay round the house, and he 

Has never come home stewed." 

"Just wait, young girl!" replied the hen, 

"New grooms, you know, will all come clean 
You'll find he's like all other men 

At hatching time — just downright mean! 
He'll leave you on your nest to stay, 

And scratch for fowls of fairer hue 
And never come around and say, 

'I'll set awhile for you!' " 

v5* «(5* v^ 

FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. 



A game of hide-and-seek they played, 
To hide and seek each other. 

But Johnny, much unlike himself, 
Hid not behind his mother. 



'Why, John," she asked, somewhat surprised, 

"Do you not hide behind me?" 
'Because, Ma, that's your X-ray skirt 

And they'd be sure to find me!" 

f^ t^ c^ 



Money has depreciated in value 40 per cent; 
Promise has depreciated 99 per cent, and the aver- 
age man's word is as good as gold we haven't got. 

19 



EMBRACING SUSPENSE. 



If I wuz postman, seems to me 

I'd try and not be late, 
'Cause there ain't no suspense so bad 

As 'tis to set and wait. 

I know I got a letter, sure, 

And yet I feel in doubt? — 
The man was due some time ago, 

And still ain't been about. 

I wrote to John ten days ago, 

To Sue and also Mae, 
And Nell has written, too, I'm sure — 

They'll all reply today! 

At last, O joy! Three blocks away 

I hear his whistle blow — 
I wish you'd looky how he drags! 

What makes the freak so slow! 

Thank goodness! Now, he's almost here; 

He'll stop, I know he will! 
See there! I got a letter sure — 

There goes his whistle shrill! 

I stumble down the steps in haste, 

Forgetting all the while, 
That I was raving mad at first. 

And greet him with a smile. 

That postman's just the bestest man, 

And comes the fittest time! 
He waits until you're anxiousest 

And then the joy's sublime! 

Just one today? But that's from John; 

He's just the dearest saint! 
Of course it is, and yet somehow 

I kind o' fear it ain't? 

20 



Today? — Let's see — Today's the time; 

He always writes today — 
I'll hurry in and set me down 

And read it right away. 

I hide the letter from myself, 

To aggravate suspense, 
Until the very last to make 

My joy the more immense. 

But when I turn the missive up 
These words my fate disclose 

And put a tragic end to hope; 
"Big Profits Selling Hose." 



BAD EGGS. 



Two eggs lay quarreling in the nest; 

Said Number One to Number Two, 
"I've put your friendship to the test 

And found a yellow streak in you! 
For weeks I've stayed right by your side 

But now my fondest hopes are foiled; 
I cannot be the same, I've tried, 

And so I'm done! — You're simply spoiled.' 



Said Number Two, "That's just a stall; 

Quite luckily I've had a tip; 
You're addled if you think I'll fall 

For that — I've found you are a flip. 
I'm not so soft as you might think. 

You egotistic bit of flesh! 
Although I'm strong for you, you Gink, 

You can't change me by getting fresh!" 

21 



MISAPPROPRIATION OF FUNDS. 



Philander lives across der street 

An' he's my little dub; 
Us saved up pennies 'til us got 

Enuff to stake a Club, 
Us just ast him and me to come — 

It's all we would invite, 
No uvers didn't save no jits — 

Us planned a blowout rite! 
Us boaf had saived ten sents a piece 

An' 'ats some stake, I trust; 
Us kids wuz bent ter feast 'at day 

'Till we would almos' bust. 
Us had der club house all fixt up — 

Some class, you bet your socks, 
Fer kids has lots of room inside 

A big peanner box. 

Wen time fer 'freshments come we hiked 

Out fer the stand in haste, 
Ter git tew whole Kream kones a piece, 

Fer one doan't make a taste; 
Der kids w'at didn't have no cash 

Ter join got awful mad 
An' stood beside der walk, we thought 

Ter take der cash we had; 
So me tole Phil we'd put it in 

Us moufs till we got by, 
And 'at we'd pass der kids like Kounts 

And hold us heads up high — 
But them bad kids just stood plum still — 

Of all der beastly crimes — 
Dey'd strecht a wire w'at made us fawl 

An' swaller boaf us dimes! 

c^* i^ t^ 

General opinions may encourage or dishearten, 
but the man who fights or faints at what others 
think bespeaks a slight acquaintance with Self. 

22 



A CASE OF GOSSOPITIS. 



I'm a naytive of Arkansas 

An' a stranger in yer town, 
But I hearn about yer village 

An' so here I settles down. 
I acquired a numerce fambly 

In the Hoosier Hills up there, 
But I brung 'em down to Texas 

'Cause ye're up-to-dater'n we 're. 

I precured a good posishun, 

An' it's highfaluttin', too; 
I'm a-workin' on a sallry 

Like the highbrows alius do; 
An' my fambly's educatin', 

Sy, they'r learnin' how to talk; 
Mandy's 'come a soshul fackter 

An' the gals dress up to chalk. 

They'uz quick to ketch the latest — 

Sy, we're on a party line — 
An' they're on to all the gossip, 

Them there womern folks o' mine. 
Sy, it's gossip fresh fer breakfast 

An' it's gcssip night and noon. 
Dang! it's gossip by the sunlight 

An' it's gossip by the moon. 

I done know more 'bout the people, 

Tho' I ain't been here a year. 
Than the folks out in Milwaukee 

Know about Budweizer beer; 
I ken name you all the couples 

Er the crocks an' turns they've done; 
I ken tell you hew Jane Jabbers 

Cut Nan Niffers out o' John. 



28 



I could put you next to cases 

Where the wife — an' it's all right — 
Takes her sweetheart auto-ridin' 

While her husband works at night. 
I could cite you to the mashers 

An' the married ones they string, 
Er the subjects talked at Circles, 

Er most any other thing. 

An' ef I wuz just a-mind to, 

I could tell you werser'n that — 
Who's committed soshul breeches 

And just where it happened at. 
O, you see, by Heck, I'm posted. 

Yet I kaint read nairy line — 
Where'd I get it? Wal, I tell you — 

Frum them womern folks o' mine. 

Sy, it's gossip, goldarn gossip, 

Ev'ry hour of the day, 
Frum the dawn o' early mawnin' 

'Til it's time to hit the hay; 
Fact, I ketch myself a-dreamin' 

That a brand new scandal's out 
An' I wake myself inquirin' 

As of Mandy what's about! 

I ken see my health a-failin'. 

And it pesters me a heap — 
Since my folks went gossip-crazy — 

Fer the lack o' plenty sleep. 
I have took to workin' extry 

So's that I ken keep away 
From the gab about my naybors, 

Tho' I don't f et extry pay. 



24 



Sy, at meals I alius hurry 

So's I hardly taste a crum, 
'Till my reckless way o' eatin's 

Put my stommick on the bum; 
An' I guess I'll soon be waltin' 

Per the undertaker's hurse 
An' a-pleadin' with St. Peter — 

But it wouldn't be no worse 

Ef he didn't let me enter 

Than it is right here at home, 
Ef I knowed when I got down there 

That my womern wouldn't come. 
Fer they've gossipt an' they've gossipt 

'Till they've driv me plum insane, 
An' I've prayed to go like Abel, 

By the route of brother Cain! 

Great Gol-whoppers! How they gossip; 

Them there womern folks o' mine, 
An' whilst one's a-pumpin' naybors, 

'Tothers listenin' on the line; 
An' 'twill be the doom o' Satan 

Ef they fail to land up higher. 
Per they'll stretch some devlish scandal 

'Till they smother out his fire! 






Daughter: ^'Mother, do you think there is any 
man who would not misunderstand if I volunteered 
a kiss?" 

Mother: "Yes, daughter; a dead one." 
Daughter: "Then I suppose it will be safe to 
kiss John when he comes this evening." 



25 



SHE LOVED ME— SHE LOVED ME NOT. 



I wooed a maid with ardent zeal. 

Her air was love-instilling, 
And O the thrills my fond heart felt! 

Yes, thrills, divine, soul-filling!" 

She praised my rhyme, declared me great, 

She strung me almost daffy; 
She hinted love 'till I, poor wight, 

Believed her line of taffy. 

I grew to love her with a vim 

That knew no bounds nor equal; 
The moon shone bright and all the stars — 

But wait and hear the sequel: 

One night I took her to a ball, 

Not dreaming of the folly; 
I had her four times on my card 

And what you think, By Golly? 

The First we sat — I didn't dance — 

The Next she cut to dance, sir; 
The Third I only caught a glance 

That pained me like a cancer! 

The Fourth I did not see the maid — 
Now where could she be hiding? 

I took my hat and, halfway home, 
I met her, auto-riding! 

«^ ft^ f^ 

A SHEEPISH IDEAL. 
Said the beautiful ewe in confidence calm. 

When discussing her suitors and "rethers," 
**I certainly do like that handsome young ralm, 

But I'm very much down on my wethers." 

26 



JOB COULDN'T DO IT. 



The man who blows out two rear tires 

And still don't cuss a bit, 
He knowed the tires wuz old; that he 

Had two more in his kit; 
That it could be a whole lot worse — 

Suppose it wuz all four, 
Ten miles from town and at a time 

He didn't have no more** 



But when you've smiled the livelong day, 

And bottled up your wrath — 
Just vowed you wouldn't cuss again, 

Tho' Satan crossed your path — 
You walk into a picture show, 

Of course to be amused, 
And find that by some trick of luck 

You've really got enthused. 



A monstrous hat comes in betwixt 

Your vision and the screen — 
The biggest top, you think, by heck, 

That eyes have ever seen! 
But in a haze of worthless hope 

Your dignity assumes 
That if you'd ask this late-day Eve 

She'd gently furl her plumes. 



And so you lean with greatest care — 

The w^rath you felt still hid — 
And say, *'I beg your pardon, Ma'm, 

You mind to lift your lid?" 
Now don't tell me of modern Jobs 

Who wouldn't get red hot. 
When she turns round and blurts out loud, 

**Wye, cert'ly I will — not!" 

27 



A GERMLESS WONDER. 



Did Adams father make the Germ? 

A human intuition 
Persuades me 'twas some other shop 

That ran in competition. 

I say he did not build the bug, 

Since he's a just Creator, 
Therefore I hold some vicious Imp 

The Germ Disseminator. 

If Adam's Pa had made the germ. 

Not only men but women 
Would have some vile offending bug, 

The same as have we yoemen. 

A war is waged against the pest 

And Dupes their ''don'ts" are hissing. 

Hence Public Drinking Cups are gone 
And Science tabooes kissing. 

Eugenics says, "Thou shalt not kiss," 

Despite the lure of beauty, 
And prim pure-faced fanatics say: 

**Make 'Safety First' a Duty!" 

The pretty girl, we know full well 

No germ essays to cherish. 
And if mere ugliness drew germs, 

There're some we know who'd perish. 

But women are, all types, immune, 
Nay! None are germ-infested, 

For just among themselves how oft 
We've seen the theory tested. 

You've doubtless sat behind a bunch — 

Perhaps a half a section — 
Of Cherups at a picture show. 

All worthy of delection. 



28 



And when the reel is spun, one yanks 

A goat-like epidermis 
And swabs her face and hands it on — 

Think they that there a germ is? 

If Adam's dad did make the germ, 
Then Man redeemed the blunder, 

For he has turned the chamois skin 
Into a Germless Wonder? 



«(?• 0?* t^* 



COUNTING THE COST. 



I think the girls are charming things. 

Dad says they're better'n men by far; 
That woman's made man what he is — 

Now if they're all like Ma, they are. 

They give the fellers hope, some day. 

That life'll take a terbul rise 
And on a sudden nuptial tide 

Transport them straight to Paradise. 

It ain't no fake, I don't suppose, 

'Cause Pa got married long ago, 
And says it's simply been a dream 

And so does Ma — I guess it's so! 

Dad says the money young men splunge 
Would pay the most expensive rent; 

That 'till he took and married Ma 
He never saved a doggone cent. 

He says the starting of success 
Is when a man goes to propose — 

But since Ma's oilers made her duds. 

Dad's not been stuck for store-bought clothes. 



29 



SUFFERING INNOCENCE. 



Me doan't pheel dood, sumhow, today; 

Me's dittin' awful sick: 
Me stummit urts and rite fru here 

It ptieels a heap tew thick. 

Me finks me needs sum pary garck 
To make der krampin' quit, 

But den dey'd tall me nauty boy 
Wen I ain't sinned a bit. 

My mamma sais wen kids gits sick 
It's tause dey eats tew mutch, 

But wen fings taste so blcomin' dood, 
Me doan't believe no sutch. 

She'd dope me deed if she jest knowed 

'Ow powful sick I am, 
And ]"laim me tco, wen I ain't eat 

But j<=^st wun quart o' jam! 

^ S ^ 
IN THE GAME OF MIDARTB. 



You asked me to state the reason I wait 
And why I'm net married as yet, 

So listen, I'll try to tell you the why 
And some cf the girls I have met. 

I first went insane about a young "Jane" 
While yet we were both in the 'teens — 

I courted with zeal and many a spiel 
I made to this Queen of my queens. 

When we were engaged her Father, enraged 
By something — I've never known what — 

Induced me to scoot by the toe of his boot 
And severed the pledge on the spot. 

30 



My next was a blonde, kind-hearted and fond — 
For blondes are affectionate Dears — 

We courted and spooned and whispered and crooned 
Fond nothings in each other's ears. 

A beau that she had put me to the bad, 

And months of monopolized time. 
Thus ended in naught except that it taught 

Feigned love is not always sublime. 

The next was a Miss too charming to kiss, 

With lips of a penciled-pink hue, 
Got stuck on herself, contemptible elf, 

And trouble was quick to ensue. 

She liked me at times — I wooed her with rhymes — 
But g£e! the pert things she could say; 

Sometimes she was nice, mere often like ice — 
I finally resigned in dismay! 

e next one I found had eyes of a brown 
^^liat talked in their dreamy repose; 
r sm^ile was a dream that spread to redeem 
The freckles that spattered her nose. 

last we were pledged but it was alleged 

'^ guy who had loved her for years 
as low ir despair, and so to be fair 
I yielded the lass to his tears. 

The next — a brunette — (I'm courting her yet), 

Has held me at bay for a year. 
But she's so complex — a trait of the sex — 

'Twill end as the other, I fear. 

In playing the game of Love it's the same 

Old story of Luck versus Jinx; 
Bach time you have matched, when fancies have 
hatched. 

You'll find you've been stuck for the drinks. 

31 



NAMING THE TWINS. 



A weary youth called in one day 

To see his Totsy-wot, 
And feeling sure she loved him much, 

Proposed right on the spot. 
"I love you, George," her voice assured, 

"But ere the day is set. 
You first must wait 'til I become 

A voting Suffragette." 

A man who builds autos to sell, 

Contrived a scheme of worth. 
And now has out a Ladies' car. 

The grandest fad on earth; 
The women in New York went wild — 

Their husbands are upset, 
Because they had to buy 'em one — 

It's branded ''Suffragette." 

A London merchant built a swell 

Show window to his store. 
At great expense of fine plate glass — 

Ten thousand "pounds" or more. 
"That glass," he said, "must be insured — 

I'll call on Agent Mets" — 
We've cut it out," the agent said, 

"The town has Suffragettes." 

A dying Suffragette of wealth 

Was asked her will to make, 
And all concerned thought "Women's wage" 

Would heir a handsome stake. 
She said: "'Tis short; I have no heir; 

Just pay my minor debts. 
Then give the rest to Emmaline 

To vote her Suffragettes." 



32 



When twins were born in Johnny's home 

The parents thought it great, 
To call them names synonymous 

And also up to date; 
So Johnny said: "Since names are shy, 

Let's call one *Vandal-ette,' 
And since it's all about the same, 

The other 'Suffragette.' " 



BUSHWHACKED. 



Cupid struck me unexpected, 

Never dreamed of meeting him; 

Suddenly when unprotected 
Came his arrow with a vim. 

True to aim — he never misses — 

Hurling through my heart it went, 
Then with pert triumphant hisses, 
Bowed and hied away, content. 

Horrid thing! Could I endure it! 

Pains like this you seldom feel — 
Cupid knew a way to cure it, 

Sent his nurse to make it heal. 

Faithful to her every duty. 

Nursing through the evenings late. 

Thrilling in her charming beauty — 
Ah! such inspiration great! 

Knew my wish before I said it. 
Patient when I'd feel perverse — 

For the cure she has the credit, 
Better, though, I have the nurse! 



33 



i 



A PAIR OF "ITS." 



This pun was written at two egotistic officials 
of a company, under whom the author was indi- 
rectly employed, the officials being cousins and ex- 
ceedingly domineering. 

Choose you this day whom ye shall serve, 
To please, nor from his will to swerve — 
There's but one God, the way they see it, 
And that's the twain. 
Lord 'Temas, I shall serve thee — nix; 
Thy Cousin, too — alas! with bricks. 
I'll serve no Lord if ye twain be it, 
Ye zealots, vain! 

Ye might as well to honor me, 
Tho' I'm not all a man should be, 
Still I shall not admit thee greater, 

For this I doubt. 
You perch, you think, above my peer, 
But I shall humble not nor fear 

Since thou art not mankind's Creator, 

Nor much devout. 

I envy not thy would-be fame 
For soon 'twill go from whence it came, 
And leave thee but a pensive mortal, 
P'raps less than I; 
For vanity is honor's bane. 
The emphasis of lack of brain; 

It enters not through wisdom's portal — 
You're vain — and why? 

I read in thy voracious eyes 
The snares that honor would despise, 
And thou shalt sigh when once awaken. 
And then the shame! 
Your pride a puncture shall sustain 
When dream and fancy, facts shall drain. 
And time shall prove thou wert mistaken — 
Such worthless fame! 

34 



im 



The name that you revere in print, 
Commercially omnipotent, 

Shall lose its weal at wooing, 
Then angry fits! 
Cousins, too, you know can lie, 
So clout the beam from out thine eye. 
And meet your doomed undoing. 
Ye pair of Its. 



i^ i^ v5* 



THE WAY OF A GIRL, 



I wish that I could take it back. 

Not what I've thought but what I've said, 
And start all o'er with her again — 

But Ah! those choking words are fled. 

I'd think the same thoughts as for that, 
And woo her with no less of zeal, 

But in my frantic spell of love 
I'd never make that mushy spiel. 

., I'd court with only silent tongue — 
' ' 'Tis suicide to speak outright — 
I'd let her guess my sentiments. 
It gives them all the more delight. 

So sure's you tell them candidly 
^ You're strong for them and thus and so. 
They simply wilt into a swoon 

Because they'd rather guess than know. 

It's just the way these queer girls do — 
I sometimes think they're so severe; 

You've said just what they want to know 
An yet not what they want to hear. 



I 



LEARNING FROM OTHERS 



Sometimes methinks I surely need, 
A better half, some Fairy Queen, 

To make my ups my downs exceed 
And fill with joy the gaps between. 

Methinks I see a brighter day 

Concealed within my future's mold; 

That Love would rush all care away 
And life worth while to me unfold. 

Until I see some pensive hub 

A victim of her girlish wrath, 
With eyes askew and lips asnub. 

Regret the day he crossed her path. 

Again a shrieking voice I hear 

Emerge from lips he thought so mild, 

Propound domestic law severe 

And set the humble husband wild. 

*Tis then I gasp to see his plight 

In service on the nuptial staff, 
Rejoice that I've no wrongs to right, 

And don't possess a Better Half. 

c^* c5* ^^ 

When you see a man brim full of wit, you can 
bet your buffalo pennies that his wife or his sweet- 
heart has a prolific vein of humor. His wit is but 
the fruit of his environment. 

f^9 5^% C^^ 

A Tooth crushed and left shall rise again. 



36 



A QUESTIONABLE GIFT. 



Now I'm surprised, in fact I'm shocked! 

I never knew before 
The Office Girl would ever be — 

There's some mistake, I'm sure. 

She doesn't look a trifle old; 

Her looks are rather good; 
I never dreamed that she would be — 

I hardly thought she could. 

I see her driving with her beau, 

And handsome ain't the name — 

He dresses like a Prince, and Gee! 
He's bats about the dame. 

In fact I thought she'd soon be off, 
That is, would marry soon. 

And that she'd leave her job and take 
A rompin' Honeymoon. 

These things I think are surely mixed — 

I can't believe it yet; 
That she will be a bachelor maid 

Or maiden suffragette: 

And yet I'd like to know just why 

They've intimated that 
By sending her such birthday gift — 

A pensive little cat! 



^ 



We proudly boast, "I paddle my own canoe" and 
never get wise to the fact that other people's opin- 
ions are at the helm and that we usually land just 
where they direct. 



i 



37 



BLIND TO OPPORTUNITY. 



Sometimes the Boss will keep me late 
And Gee! I'm so distressed 

Because I want to go and eat 
My dinner with the rest. 

It ain't because I'm hungry, though; 

If 'twuz I wouldn't care; 
It's just because some certain folks 

Are gone when I get there. 

The town clock bings its dreary Six 
And dinner comes half-past, 

And still I work and wonder if 
I'll be too late at last. 

With equal mix of hope and doubt 

I'm off at last and chase 
My weary stilts 'til breath is scarce, 

To reach the eating place. 

And drawing near methinks I see 
The porch with forms replete 

Which, in the dusky view, must be 
The bunch I raced to greet. 

I've yet a tiny speck of hope — 
Perhaps they've just come in? 

But toothpicks seem to contradict — 
O Slush! I'm left again! 

It's indiscreet! Those girls should wait! 

My wounded heart they chill — - 
Suppose one thought and dared to wait? 

I'd love her fit to kill! 



38 



I WISH I REALLY KNEW. 



Is beauty a curse or a blessing? 

Should a girl be loved or despised? 
Can man with discretion esteem it? 

Perhaps it's an art to be prized! 
I wish I really knew. 

If Ethics incline to permit him 
To favor her charming contour, 

Has still he an atom of prudence 
To find himself loving some four? 
I wish I really knew! 

It's up to adepts in Esthetics 

And not for the practical man 

To come to a sober conclusion 
Of what is the feasible plan — 
I wish I really knew! 

With love so devised and specific 
That only one lass we may choose, 

Would Cupid sustain an exception? 
Each one is too charming to lose-- 
I wish I really knew! 

With four of the lovable creatures, 
Affections so wholly untried. 

And each with an air so bewitching — 
O how shall I ever decide! 
I wish I really knew! 

I'll simply proceed with a fairness, 
The difference is really so small — 

May I hope for a home and land it 
In an effort to love you all? 
I wish I really knew. 



39 



THE RAVING. 

(Apologies to Edgar A. Poe.) 



Note — This parody on Poe's Raven was written to 
four young school teachers who mischievously 
answered an Ad in the Dallas Morning News 
through which a young man advertised for a 
better half. 

Once upon an evening dreary 

While they pondered, lovelorn, weary, 

Over*a Domestic Want-Ad, 

Hope .returned to them once more; 

These four girls were never napping, 

Always planning, scheming, trapping, 

Trapping for a man with income, 

For a man with wealth galore — 

Didn't have to be so handsome 

If he had the wealth galore — 

Just his wealth and nothing more! 

Ah! how poorly they remember 
If a single parching ember. 
As they read the Want-ad column, 
Cast its ghost upon the floor; 
But 'twas in the local Daily 
That these words they read so gaily; 
''WANTED — One refined young lady 
By young man of twenty-four." 
Then these fair, despondent maidens 
Were a hopeful, cheerful four, 
And aggressive, evermore! 

Naturally their hearts beat stronger; 

Hesitating then no longer, 

''Sir," they wrote, and hopeful, "truly 

Your forgiveness I implore, 

But your Ad is so exciting 

That it lured me into writing 



46 



And believe me, I have never 
Done such thing as this before." 
Then each sent him notes of reference 
And acceptance did implore. 

Mention Age? Ah, nevermore! 

Then into the future peering, 
Often hopeful, sometimes fearing. 
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal 
Ever dared to dream before; 
But HIS silence was unbroken 
And that stillness gave no token 
And some restless words were spoken 
Just among the lovelorn four, 
For they heard from this adventure 
Nothing for a month, or more — 
Longest month Time ever bore. 

Back into the hopeless turning; 
With a conscience meekly burning, 
Each convinced that this gay human 
Was a source of hope no more. — 
But one day there came a letter, 
Made them feel a trifle better 
'Til they tore the missive open. 
Then 'twas worse than e'er before. 
For he sent the treasured ref'rence 
Back unto this lovelorn four, — 

Just the ref'rence, nothing more! 

Now this corps of dismal teachers 
Are a heart-sick set of creatures 
With humiliation burning 
Deep into their bosoms' core; 
And they all are now agreeing 
That no living human being 
By a burlesque advertisement 
Can entrap them anymore; 
And a vow is emanating 
From this melancholy four. 

Quoth they, raving, ^'Nevermore!" 

41 



MISLEADING SYMPTOMS. 



I'm all blowed up today, somehow, 

And things are goin' wrong; 
My work has been a drag all day; 

I just can't get along. 

My head is goin' round and round, 

My brain seems all upset; 
I'm dreaming dreams in broad daylight — 

And Gee! that's some coquette! 

I really fear I'm stuck in love 

And woe be unto me! 
If she should be opposed to sucli, 

What will the outcome be? 

I guess I'll break the news and see — 

I'll tell her right away 
And let her have the plain cold facts — 

I wonder what she'd say? 

Now she might be averse to love? 

At least to love with me, 
But where there's life there's hope, they say, 

I'll just nerve up and see! 

Right here I'll just explore her views, 

And yet I doubt my luck? 
By Heck! my nerve is cavin' in — 

I just ain't got the pluck! 

And since I took a sober thought 
I've really changed my views; 

By jinx I'm not in love at all; 
I've merely got the blues! 



iZ 



ALMOST. 



(Jestingly penned to the four teachers.) 



I feel so doggone queer sometimes 

I don't know where I'm at; 
I think I want to fall in love 

And such fool things like that. 
If I but dared to take the risk, 

I know where I'd head in: 
There's four of them that sets me wild, 

But how could I begin? 

I couldn't walk right up and say: 

"I'm strong as Rip for you," 
'Cause that's no way to woo a girl, 

So how ought I to do? 
I like 'em 'cause they all teach school; 

They're wide awake, alert; 
So self-possessed and quite precised, 

Too dignified to flirt. (?) 

How great to have a pal in life 

Whose wits are sharp as steel 
So when you'd ask her catchy things 

She'd speak right off the reel! 
I don't care nothin' 'bout a girl 

With just a pretty face; 
Unless she's got some common sense 

Her looks are out of place. 

But these four girls I'm ravin' 'bout 

Have both the looks and wit; 
The reason why I don't propose, 

I just ain't got the grit. 
I heard 'em all discuss one day 

Their views along this line 
And only one of all the four 

Had views akin to mine. 

43 



i 






I guess I ought to speak to her, 

Our views are more akin, 
But even then my chance could be 

A darn slim one to win; 
And she ain't said that she likes me — 

Perhaps her smiles beguile?- — 
My heart can't make a fool of me, 

By Jinx, I'll wait awhile! 

5^w c^ t^ 

TO THE GIRLS IN THE OFFICE. 



Upon a blithesome day like this 

When each one's world should flow with bliss. 

Ye maidens seem to sense some sorrow! 
Nay, not the Summers you have spent 
Would bring this look of discontent — 

Then be ye thinking of the morrow? 

If so, then doleful thoughts must be 
Depicting doubtful scenes to thee. 

To rob thee of thy faith in Cupid! 
Your doubts are traitors — Faith achieves 
And faithless hearts of Fate make thieves 

Who steal your joys and leave you stupid. 

Commercial worry? Let it not 
Present you with a single swat. 

Lest some admirer might mistake it. 
Let youthful smiles traverse thy face! 
Disrobe ye of that sad grimace — 

No gloom so great but Faith can break it. 

All work, 'tis true, without some play 
Makes "Mary" seem a bit ungay, 

But these long lanes, they say, have turnings. 
Despair will surely set you back 
If on your face it prints one track— 

O smile behind those lovelorn yearnings! 



I BETCHA CAN! 



Pa said his pa, long time ago, 

Worked oxuns to the plow, 
An' to the wagons, too, like folks 

Work mules an' horses now; 
He said they didn't have no lines, 

Est used a whip — that's all — 
To make 'em go w'ich way they ort 

An' nen est sorter call, 
**Whoa Lep," to turn out to the left, 

An' fer the other way 
He'd tell the near ox what to do: 

"Hike, Spot! Hike, Spot!" he'd say. 

An' what's so funny. Pa says he 

Can pick out est the kind 
0' calf that when he's growed a ox 

Will be the best to mind. 
Because he's broad in 'tween the horns 

An' 'at his forehead's wide, 
W'ich means they got est lots o' sense — 

You guess pa ever tried 
To tell ef boys, w'en they grows big, 

Plum up to be a man, 
Will have sense ef they got wide heads? 

Gee Whiz, I betcha can! 



(^ «/$• -^ 



The winter's gone, said Mrs. Fippe, 
I'll fix the icebox, for behold. 

Just when the season's out for Grippe, 
I alius start to taking cold. 



1 



45 



ENGINE TROUBLES. 



here is Miss June, already, so soon! 

You're welcome, old girl, to our town; 
You drive away spring but birds '11 still sing- 
I'm happy to have you come round. 

1 may be a freak, or mentally weak, 

But spring is no favorite with me; 
I'm fond of its bloom but doggone the gloom 
Of a liver's torpidity! 

I'm never inspired — in fact I'm too tired — 

To eulogize Nature, or spree 
With poets who crowd the papers with loud 

Effusions of spring — not me! 

The summer I choose with ball to enthuse, 
Tho' weight I may lose with the heat; 

It's never too warm for my string-bean form, 
And I need so little to eat. 

I may be a freak, or mentally weak. 
But spring has some onery tricks — 

She maketh my engine hit on three when 
It ought to be hittin' on six! 



5,5% ^% t^i 



Somebody said I was brilliant and I wondered 
if there was anything I WASN'T smart enough to 
do; then somebody said I was stupid and I won- 
dered if there was anything I WAS smart enough 
to do. 



46 



THE ACID TEST. 



You've yet to convince me, 
With much to disprove, 

That folks who eat pickles 
Are really in love. 

Does the bee sip acids 

Except from the bloom, 

To temper his honey 

Or scent his perfume? 

Nor is a dill pickle 

The coveted quest 
Of thrills that are creeping 

From love in the breast. 

The only insignia 

Such cravings may give 
Are sweets that you've eaten- 

Not those that you live. 

I challenge the theory, 

Beyond the extent 
That pickles are tokens 

Of temperament; 

Nor can you convince me — 
Too much to disprove — 

That folks who eat pickles 
Are really in love! 



^ 



Policy in every-day affairs has crowded sincer- 
ity into oblivion until at last we are all pretty well 
agreed that every little movement has a motive of 
its own. 



47 



IF. 

(Apologies to Kipling.) 



If you can pay your bills when all about you 

Are beating theirs, that is, these they owe you; 
If you can buy on time from firms who doubt you 

And not be sued on your notes "long since" due; 
If you can wait and not go broke by waiting, 

Or being stood off by those hard-luck lies, 
And through tight times survive nor lose your rat- 
ing, 

And yet when times are good, economize; 

If you can dream in Youth of some fair creature 

Whose life to yours you hope some day to link; 
Whose contour, hair and every feature 

Are Nature's own, and Masterpiece, you think; 
If you can bear to have this fond dream broken 

When ensnared by the trap "art" sets for fools. 
And watch the shams you wed for Beauty's token. 

Cast off about the room like worn-out tools; 

If you can pay for costly heaps of makeup — 

Cosmetics, pads, false teeth, and eyebrow gloss — 
At night feign sleep while she ransacks your 
pockets. 

And never breathe one word about your loss; 
If you can have the heart to let her skin you 

While to some cut-price bargain(?) sale she's 
gone. 
And knowing, too, her only interest in you 

Is the Long Green which says to her: "Hang on!" 

If you can face the crowds when through her X-ray 

Show silhouettes of hold-back straps, and such. 
And the slit in her skirt shows her hose half-way. 

And her low-neck dress drops a bit too much; 
And still not fill some criticizing bohunk 

With a show'r of shot from a Madman's gun. 
Then you've put one by Old Job for patience. 

And— which is more—you're going some, my son! 



A DREAM OF SUPERMEN. 



Come, walk with me into the realm 

Where kindred souls abound, 
Where understanding reigns supreme 

And Happinesss is found! 
'Tis there the fellowship of God 

To man is meted out — 
Where Love and Faith blend brotherhood 

And hearts are cleansed of doubt. 



Nor do I weave a dream beyond 

The reach of human will; 
That haven lies within our midst, 

Assured, involatile; 
For naught the self-redeeming soul 

Can bribe or long suppress 
When men unite as friends to man 

And lose their selfishness. 






Science is slow in explaining why the woman of 
today talks so much faster and longer and yet says 
so much less than the old-fashioned woman of yes- 
terday. 



i 



49 



IT MELTED. 



Afore it snowed I wisht it would, 

An' nen one day it did, 
'Til all the trees wuz est plum white 

An' all the the grass wuz hid. 
An' nen I runned out in the yard 

An' Gee! it pinched my toes — 
I didn't have no shoes on yet 

An' I est almos froze. 



It burned my fingers when I made 

A snowball 'thout no glove 
An' so I taked a bucketful 

To warm it on the stove; 
An' w'en it 'menced to getting warm — 

No sir, it wouldn't stay — 
It keeped a-gittin' littler 'til 

It all est leaked away! 

c^* «^^ ^* 

At the present rate of evolution our social stand- 
ards are undergoing, the girl who today asks her 
mother to repeat father's proposal, will become the 
proud grandmother of a son who will ask father for 
the exact verbiage mother used when she popped 
the question. 

^v ^w ^% 

We would think that the watch is a mighty hard 
case. 

From the way men keep it in soak; 
Yet it goes to the shop with an undaunted face 

When only its owner is broke. 



60 



fart Ctotf 






GREATNESS. 

When a friend seems disregardful 
Does your heart no doubting feel? 

Is your confidence unshaken 

And your friendship warm with zeal? 

Have you felt that form of friendship 
That can bridge the silent space 

Of a loved one's prolonged absence, 
Holding trust in sweet embrace? 

On the throne where Will is Master 
Who must bring or stay Defeat, 

Have you written ''Right is Victor" 
And commanded Wrong, ''Retreat!" 

Have you learned to hold fond longings 
Prom a rash, impatient mood? 

And to take each restless moment 
As a symbol of some good? 

Have you Gratitude for Pleasure? 

Can you give and take with Time? 
Read the broken prose of Nature — 

Change the prose to precious rhyme? 

Have you learned to smile on Trouble, 

To abate the pangs of woe? 
Can you cast bright sheens of sunshine 

O'er the souls of friend and foe? 

Can you render good for evil? 

Smile when frowns are your reward? 
Can you find sweet strains of music 

Where prevails some harsh discord? 

If you've found these things and do them, — 
God such pow'r to you doth give — 

Then you've proved your claim to Greatness 
And have best learned how to live! 

55 



TRAITS OF FRIENDSHIP. 



Fond friends of mine, could I define 
The length, 

The strength 

Of Friendship's arm, 
I'd garner there the Poet's prayer 
And reap the Artist's dream of Charm! 

No distance can evade its span; 
Its reach 
For each 

Endearing heart 
Reminds us still that sheer good will 
Attends tho' friends be far apart. 

Tho' days be drear, it brings us cheer 
To feel 

The weal 

Of that fond touch 
With which we brave the surging wave 
Of painful grief nor count it much. 

A soothing balm our fears to calm 
When doubt 
Would rout 

Our faith in men; 
Good fellowship which serves to whip 
Our moods into praiseworthy ken. 

'Tis life of Life, the end of strife. 
The zest, 
The test 

Of true mankind; 
Man's noblest guide, the germ of pride— 
'Tis Faith and Cheer and Love combin'd, 



6a 



TODAY AND HOPE. 



I ask not what Time holds in store 
Nor haste my Future to explore, 

Today is much with which to cope; 
I turn not to the fleeting Past 
For joys unseen it may have cast — 

Today is Life, — beyond is Hope! 

'Tis by Today these hands shall mold 
The rank Tomorrow will unfold. 

For Future's cast in Present scope. 
Why lift from me this mystic veil 
Whose folds conceal Tomorrow's tale? 

Enough! Today and Heav'ly Hope. 



Cd^ ^^ K^ 



COMPONENTS OF LIFE, 



Dreams give Promise 
Hearts desire; 
Hope sustains us, 
Thoughts inquire; 
Love gives courage, 
Charms enthrall. 
Life lends wisdom, — 
Death takes all. 



i 



An INCESSANT tongue denotes an Inactive brain; strength 
of mind is reckoned not by length of tongue. 



67 



O TEACH ME KINDLY TO REGARD. 



Strange sentiment who taught me Love! 
If thou wouldst lift me e'en above 

Love's path v/here Friendship oft is marr'd, 
When love rebates with spiteful stings 
And Friendship takes departing wings, 

O teach me kindly to regard! 

If thou wouldst rid me of my woes 
And make me worthy of my foes 

From whose esteem thou hast me barr'd — 
My fellowship they e'en defy — 
Since coldest hearts must sometime sigh, 

O teach me kindly to regard! 

If wrath should drive me to forget 
That Anger's sequel is regret. 

And I in haste some friend discard, 
V/hen I am shorn of that good will 
If thou wouldst make me worthy still, 

O teach me kindly to regard! 



?,i7* ^5* V?* 



The man who sees Right and Duty simultane- 
ously, serves, and thinks only afterward what oth- 
ers may think, is as rare as righteous. 



THOUGHTS, like ore, are mind deposits 
And have to be melted ere molded; 
They're heated by the fire of inspiration 
And cast into words, unfolded. 



58 



TARDY TRIBUTES. 



If in the garden of my fellow man 

The tap root of a rose should grow 
And through the fence a truant bough should span 

And o'er my yard a bloom bend low, 
What right have I its choice of growth to foil 

Or more can claim than its perfume 
If it shall take no substance from my soil 

With which to propagate its bloom! 

Yea I in the tender hearts of men hath sprung 

The rose, Good Will, which proffers praise 
To souls athirst for life's fond songs unsung, — 

But here a wand'ring bough estrays; 
It spans the fence of Custom's court and lifts 

Its head some gloom to wile; 
But Custom who contrives to make, by gifts, 

The spectre of a dead face smile. 
Says, "Xo, Good Will," and weaves the rose into 

A wreath with hundreds more instead 
And thus extracts from life's rare joys too few, 

Her tributes for the listless dead I 

I'm not the sort to sing deaf songs o'er graves 

Alone to lifeless forms of clay, 
Or flowers grow for heroes dead, or knaves — 

To living souls I lilt my lay; 
My choicest beds I grow for seeing eyes — 

WTiat corpse can sense the sweet perfume 
Of Custom's hoarded wreaths, or wake to prize 

Her tardy tribute at the tombl 



59 



HAPPINESS. 

O HAPPINESS! Most precious gem 
Of Life's adorning diadem — 
How free! yet wealth is wont to buy- 
One ripple of thine ecstacy. 

How noble that the best thou hast 
Unto the meek more oft is cast! 
How soon thy cheerful traits adorn 
E'en faces furrowed deep with scorn! 

How hard we mortals strive in vain, 
So oft to catch thy mellow strain, 
When if we knew, the price to pay 
Is but to do some good each day; 

And one as well might seek the sun 
Ere draping shades of night were done 
As hope to sense thy magic smart 
Through lust for pelf or selfish heart. 



That Vanity and Sanity rhyme is no indication 
the two go together. 



Deceit is a germ which clips the threads of 
Friendship and destroys Confidence. 



6(^ 



HARRY LEE MARRINER, 

The Dallas News Staff Poet. 



When man looks out upon the world 

And thrusts a searching hand 
Into the empty airy space 

For things he would command, 
There speaks a voice unknown within 

For greater things than food — 
"My soul! My soul! Give it repast, 

A song of cheer and good!" 

Then life lilts on, half sweet, half full; 

At last we turn to gaze 
Upon the fullsome yet unfilled 

Desires of Yesterdays; 
We look among the many thrills 

That with those days have flown 
And seek to sort the sweetest source 

Of all the joys we've known. 

We smile upon the fertile fields 

Whose tillage gave us bread; 
We thank the Fates whose vigilance 

Our feeble footsteps led — 
But there, fond memory presents 

The thought of all most dear 
And whispers, **Ah! Alas, I see! 

The friend who gave me cheer!" 

O Marriner! That friend was you! 

You took that godly role 
And with your soothing chants of cheer 

Made glad the sobbing soul; 
And like the hero, when life's sun 

Was sinking — yea, 'most gone — 
Your thought was of immortal cheer 

To Lives yet in their dawn! 



61 



i 



He liveth yet! 'Twere but a touch 

Of mystic balm which pressed 
His noble brow and whispered, ''Come, 

Thy work is much; now rest! 
Take ye this halo of reward 

And join with yonder throng 
Of Angels who, like you, have made 

The world more good with song!" 



^ 



LOVE'S REASONINGS. 



Be Life a permit man's to live 
And Love a tribute his to give. 

Then each a duty is to me; 
I've Life accepted and will not 
Assail or alter Nature's plot, 

Nor have I erred in loving thee! 

What man is weaker for his love 
But by such weakness doth improve! 

Then why should I decline its plea? 
I'd feel not worthy of life's sphere 
Nor have a treasure to revere. 

If I were robb'd, O Love, of thee! 

With love's elixir flowing through 
My heart, joy doth my soul bedew. 

And gloom transforms to ecstacy. 
I seek no counsel of the wise; 
Since thou art worthy I surmise 

I can not err in loving thee! 



62 



WRETCHED RAGS. 

(Read from the face of Poverty.) 



I walk upon the street at eve, 

All tired and tuckered out, 
With many a care upon my brain. 

And pains from toil about. 
My clothes are worn to tattered shreds, 

And though they're clean, each thread, 
I shudder as I read the thoughts 

Expressions hold, unsaid. 

So much I long for just a smile 

To cheer the close of day, 
But Rags hold horrors! Rags afright! 

And Rags drive smiles away — 

heartless World! I think aloud, 

Rags why make of me 
A Villain in the eyes of men 

When 'tis but Poverty! 

1 turn upon my humble Past 

To search for crimes I've done. 
But all my days of Need and Want 

Reveal not even one. 
I've lived a clean and honest life. 

But Rags bespeak me poor, 
And when the World is told of this 

It Vv^ants to hear no more. 

At last, condem.ned to Solitude, 

1 seek my lonely room 
Where hang about my woful couch 

The silent shades of Gloom — 
O Lord! I cry. Why such a world 

Where Honor has no worth! 
Why bring a shiftless soul to sigh 

Upon a heartless earth! 



63 



i 



And then a voice speaks low to me; 

"Wealth's heart you cannot read; 
It owes a debt to Poverty, 

And hence abhors her need; 
Oft men of means feel much good will 

But — Cowards — are afraid 
To cast a smile to lift your load 

Lest they be asked for aid." 

O Men! Mere money doesn't win 

The fight in war alone — 
'Tis just as much the bands that play 

To cheer the soldiers on; 
And men who've felt nor yet forgot 

That smiles make Life worthwhile, 
May drop no dollars in the cup, 

But just the same, they'll smile! 



J8 



THE ROLE OF FRIENDSHIP. 



At times when the feeling of loneliness comes, 
You find yourself cast on the shoal of despair; 
The shadow of gloom and of weariness drums. 
Your skies have grown starless and clouded with 
care; 

'Tis then I ask to share 

Each moment you can spare. 
For a joy such as this I implore thee: 
But not would I ask such a share of your joy, 
I bid thee to share it with those of its worth. 
And if I'm permitted one care to destroy, 
I glory while others partake of your mirth; 

Tho' oft I long for you, 

To have you love me too. 
Your esteem is enough — I adore thee. 



64 



IF I SHOULD LOVE. 



If I should love, if love there be, 

With earnest and endearing zeal. 
And breathe the soulful air of bliss 

Which only those who love can feel; 
If I should have no nobler cause 

For which to live nor to pursue, 
Would hope to gain your love be vain? 

Would Love reward, if I loved you? 

If I should dream in silent thought 

Of joyful days when you are mine. 
And draft that most ecstatic bliss 

Which only comes from things Divine; 
If you could read my fondest hope 

And knew each heart-beat's whisper, too, 
Should I despair, or would you care? 

Would Love reward, if I loved you? 

If you could turn the world to bliss 

By just a simple word, or two — 
With ecstacy life's nooks infuse 

As only Love has strength to do; 
If you could drink one draught of love, 

A breath of Life so fond and new. 
Would you decree to love with me? 

Would Love reward, if I loved you? 



i 



A Weakling is a person whom others have made: 
a Man is a personality that has made itself. 



6& 



A CHRISTMAS PIG. 



A baby pig for Christmas with an apple in its mouth! 
Is this a Christian custom of our Celebrated 
South? 
Did Jesus wish or will it, that wee piggies should 
be slain 
As a token of His worship 'til He came to earth 
again? 

I pause before a window where the lifeless forms 
recline 
Of harmless little pigs, arrayed in maimed and 
mocked design; 
'Tis here my thoughts are wafted back and mingle 
with regrets — 
The goneness of the days when I possessed my 
piggy pets! 

The mamma hog I sometimes thought was jealous, 
but I knew 
She had a mother-love for babes, like human 
mothers do; 
Like I to mother, they to her were little ties that 
bind. 
And when I see these mangled forms, sad fancies 
fill my mind. 

Methinks I see the corn shelled down while piggies 
eat nor fear. 
And then a heartless hand reach out — a piggish 
squeal I hear! 
The mother hog I hear respond in sympathetic tone; 
With ears pricked up, she looks about — we hear 
a deathly groan! 



66 



She rushes in excitement with her bristles raised 
in ire! 
But vain her hopes of rescue are — she sees her 
babe expire! 
And turns, bereaved, without revenge, to sigh what 
men resent, 
With meager consolation that her child was in- 
nocent. 

But now the Christmas spread is gone with all its 
gaiety, 
Where naught can touch its vanished joys ex- 
cept fond memory; 
And piggy, too, is gone! Alas! in silent death he 
sleeps 
While mortals look to future joys, and piggy's 
mother weeps! 

It may be just a childish heart that prompts these 
things I've said; 
But when a pig so dear alive and worth so little 
dead, 
Must have its tender, unfilled life so savagely de- 
ceased, 
I can not set the deed aside and revel in the 
feast. 



"Laugh and the world laughs with you,' 
Unless you laugh too much, then 
The world laughs at you; 
"Weep and you weep alone," 
But if you must weep, pass it for Dignity- 
Then the world admires you. 



67 



lOUTH WILL DREAM. 



YoTith will dream. O Youth will dream! 

For Dreams belong to Youth; 
'Tis here the mind, unfolding, fresh, 

Must seek a strange new truth. 

Youth will dream, O Youth will dream! 

And Youth will seek to shun 
The erring path that other men 

Before its turn have run. 

Youth will dream, O Youth will dream! 

Of future fame and pelf, 
And choosing much the wiser way, 

Would learn life for itself. 

Youth will dream, O Youth will dream! 

Of Life, perfection-blest, 
And Youth will boast, then Youth will dare, 

And err, like all the rest. 

Youth will dream, O Youth will dream! 

But when its dreams are spun. 
The Man admits, "I've played the fool, 

As man hath ever done." 



J8 



AMBITION is the yeast that makes the thorough- 
bred rise. 



j« 



IGNORANCE has but one accomplice — Indolence. 



6S 



HOPE ON THE WANE, OR LOST, 



When our loved ones come as our guest we're glad; 
They stay but a while and return — we're sad; 

But the deepest grimace 

Ever carved on a face 
Is Hope on the wane, or lost: 
Yea, loved ones may die and we grieve for a while, 
Life's sun reappears and again we smile. 

But the saddest of all 

Is the death-like pall 
Of Hope on the wane or lost. 

Our pride may be crushed, yet Faith will restore 
To the suffering heart its comfort once more. 

But the hardest to heal 

Is the wound that we feel 
With Hope on the wane, or lost: 
We may sin, repent, revive and atone — 
The Past may regret and our lot bemoan, 

But hearts never fail 

Or souls truly wail 
'Til Hope's on the wane, or lost. 

We may drink Despair for a while in Gloom, 
Or through an ill fate, face an unjust doom, — 

E'en clutch death's very bars 

But nothing ever mars 
Like Hope on the wane, or lost: 
We may brave Defeat in a cause long sought. 
Yet learn and achieve from the pangs it wrought, 

But nothing takes all 

As the death-like pall 
Of Hope on the wane, — or lost! 



69 



MAN NEVER HAS KNOWN HIS OWN MIND. 



Oft men will aver that women are weak 

Pickle-minded freaks of a kind 
Who, ever in search, know not what they seek — 

Frail souls by sentiment made blind; 
And if it were true, vain man should not jeer 

For he, hypocritical-inclined, 
Sees mostly the bad in his woman compeer 

And never has known his own mind! 

Yea! Woman can love and know her own choice. 

But where is a man with the might 
Who will shun the coo of a gentler voice 

And stick, with a fairer in sight! 
Is this huntsman's heart but a callous thing 

With masculine Constance alack. 
That he covets most the bird on the wing 

Nor cares for his game in the sack? 

And when he has loved in his care-free way 

Nor prizing her troth 'til it's lost, 
His vanity wanes and at last his lay 

Of love is hushed by Grief's grim frost, 
He weepingly wakes to the folly of youth 

And while he is left to unwind 
His dreams, he conceives of this one sad truth: 

Man never has known his own mind! 






Confidence is a knitted fabric, in the knitting 
of which a single dropped stitch often renders the 
garment worthless. 



70 



DOUBT. 

A menace to our joys, O Doubt. 

Dispensing groundless fear 
Where brotherhood would blend to all 

Its sweetest draughts of cheer. 
O Doubt! I so deplore thee, — flee! 

Nor permeate my soul! 
You teach me to suspect mankind — 

A most unsaintly role! 

Thou are the gravest slander cast 

About the traits of man 
When Faith has not been shown amiss — 

A curse to every clan; 
For who would not prefer to fall 

A victim of deceit 
Than suffer such distressing pain 

As felt when you entreat. 

Impersonating, oft, ye rogue, 

True Caution not akin — 
To slander man through vilest speech 

Were none the greater sin. 
The Good friend's vouch may countervail 

The Bad our foes depict 
But naught can reach the hidden crime 

You ruthlessly inflict. 

If I've a foe who must resent 

My acts, pray deal without 
In candid terms of speech — or blows, 

But spare me silent doubt! 
If in one deed I come to err, 

Why doubt me in the whole? 
Evasion of Deception's not 

An altruistic goal! 

With love for mankind Faith must blend: 
A faithless love is none; 



n 



'Tis nobler to be oft deceived 
Than doubt some worthy one. 

Since Faith in man oft lifts him up 
As no persuasion would, 

I trust there's good in every man 
And love him for that good. 



^ 



PLEASE TELL ME WHY. 



When skies once blue with clouds are marr'd 

And Gloom engulfs my soul; 
When laughing smiles have changed to sighs, 

And Hope resigns its goal; 
While grief is most I may forget 

But ere gloom's pangs are through, 
Please tell me why each heartache brings 

Sweet thoughts to me of you! 

In gaiety, while laughter reigns 

And skies are warm and clear; 
When gloom is but an ancient page. 

The world is filled with cheer; 
While laughter rings, I may forget 

But ere joy's touch is through. 
Please tell me why each blissdrop brings 

Sweet thoughts to me of you! 

In sleepy night when all is still, 

Each voice is hushed in sleep; 
No tread of foot is heard to move. 

No eye awake to peep; 
When slumber's deep I may forget 

But ere that sleep is through. 
Please tell me why sweet dreaming brings 

Sweet thoughts to me of you? 



78 



CONVICTING THE INNOCENT. 



I stood and gazed in silence on 
The traffic-crowded street; 

I heard the gentle patter of 
An infant's tiny feet. 

I turned to view the budding form 
Whose paddies scampered there — 

Wee children are so charming ere 
They reach the age of care. 

He passed me by and toddled on 
In heedless, cheerful flight, 

Rejoicing in his freedom for 

He'd slipped from mother's sight. 

I followed close nor let him know 

My mission was to care; 
He seemed so glad to romp alone 

I dared not interfere. 

But soon the mother came and seized 

The tiny baby hand 
And jerked it with such violence! 

Could baby understand? 

And as I tried to estimate 

God's blessings such as he, 

Again she struck the thoughtless babe 
And frowned most scornfully. 

I dared not speak although my heart 
Beat hard within my chest 

To see her chide the precious babe 
With which she had been blest. 

A thrifty babe whose tender soul 
Pond Nature's pride had fired 



7S 



And lured it with God's sunbeams bright- 
Must meet such slight regard? 

No wrong the child bore in its heart — 

Ah no! too young to know. 
Its conscience knew no crime. How then 

It must resent each blow! 

Why not have said, "You should not steal 

Away from mother, dear," 
And tell him of the dangers that 

Wee babies learn to fear? 

Think of the many vicious hearts. 

Though cast in innocence. 
That folks today hold in their chests, — 

The fruits of violence! 



A TRIBUTE TO WACO'S COTTON PALACE 
PATRIOTS. 



Rejoice today that, side by side 

The patriotic sons of toil 

Have draped success about their dreams, 

Achieving that which best beseems, 

Such hands of might, nor paused to spoil 

This, Waco's greatest Hallowtide! 

O what a contrast to disclose 
In raiments of triumph so rare 
When thoughts are wafted back to days 
When Waco stood in dreamy haze 
A Babe of Hope in need of care, 
Where now immortal splendor flows! 



74 



We're glad to praise her Cityhood,— 
In gorgeous spreads of civic charm, 
As she receives her guests with grace 
Which only Empires kept apace 
With Time can do! Yet lift an arm 
In tribute to her braves who stood 

Beside her in her infancy 
And pacified her fretful need! 
Who placed life's price upon her form 
Concealed her from depraving storm, 
Then willed her to this noble creed 
Who hold today her destiny! 

No more a Babe of Hope so small! 
No more a fretful waif, forlorn! — 
A haven where tired souls at night 
May waft on wings of Pride and Right 
And find sweet sleep! Where in the morn 
Ambition sends the waking call! 

We're proud of these progressive hands, 

These minds of high ideals, alert, 

Which steer the wheel of Destiny 

And point her on to victory. 

Nor in the thick of fray desert, 

But stand, always, where honor stands! 

'Tis thus the foe of Failure fell! 
'Tis thus triumphant banners fly! 
'Tis thus we've reaped the greatest yield 
Of glowing fame upon a field 
Where townsmen toil behind the cry, 
The best success is to excel! 



75 



A SIMPLE M-A-N. 



Since I am but a simple man — than which but few 

are more — 
And seeing vain pretense of those who claim a 

greater bore, 
I steal from out a Dullard's lair with gall exceeding 

brain 
To whisper to you boastful brutes the stand you 

take is vain. 

If you can boast of such a girth, what trait have you 

to show? 
If you deserve one atom more, what virtues make 

it so? 
For man is Man not 'til he shows some greatness of 

the soul. 
Of mental weight, the moral test — 'Tis not his rank 

or gold. 

Position holds no charm for me except 'tis worth 
the claim. 

And with it or without its rank, I'm but a man, the 
same. 

The world is ofttimes far too prone to heed the 
money-wise. 

To standardize the deeds of wealth, its word phil- 
osophize. 

While I would prosper with some trade and thrive 
in business lore. 

Yet fame in life lies far beyond and means a great 
deal more; 

To know thy trade is well, indeed, but why vain- 
glory grow? 

Since Wisdom ends with no one thing, there's yet 
much else to know. 



76 



Ye Zealots Fate has smiled upon, pray pitch a 

thought to this, 
That e'en the "Man behind the Gun" has ideas much 

amiss; 
The meek who well is self-sustained your lordship 

best not flout, 
With less conceit and more of brain he's first to find 

you out. 

Though statue-like in haughy pride above the 

throng you perch, 
'Tis small in you to think your rank defies the 

fault-find search; 
And men who fill the lower rungs and humble to 

your reign 
May in their meekness — justly too — regard you 
I with disdain. 

! The truly great and wise would dare not from his 

,' meekness swerve 

j Lest men who do his will today, tomorrow he may 

serve; 
I But self-sufficient men are made the victims of 
( disgust 

I When by some kindred pull, into official rank are 

thrust. 

! The throng who patters at your feet in motived 

I praise today 

; May ply the prank of Fox-and-crow and dupe you 

I for your prey, 

1 And v/hen you've lost the gloated cheese, where is 

j your lordship then? 

i You egotist! You'd gladly be a simple M-A-N. 



77 



BEAUTY AS A POWER. 



In aspiring to beauty, the average woman has the right 
ambition but the wrong ideal of that to which she aspires. 

Beauty as applied to persons is an assemblage of graces 
pleasing to the eye, or a pleasing combination of qualities, 
but there can be no power in this symmetry of features if it 
be not attended by a sturdy intellect. 

Beauty, to have power, must have force. 

A face, however symmetrical its features or tint its cheeks, 
can not alone constitute that rare type of beauty which Per- 
cival had in mind when he wrote: 

"So beauty, armed with virtue, bows the soul 
With a commanding, but a sweet control." 

It is true that uniformity of the features, the color of the 
skin, the expression of the eyes, are among the principal 
properties that comprise Physical Beauty, but without a dis- 
criminating sense of propriety, physical beauty is a latent 
power. 

Those beauties by which our natures are characterized, 
the qualities by which we are individualized, are among the 
traits of Spiritual Beauty and are characters that go to build 
power and personality. 

The girl or woman who possesses a symmetry of facial 
features and a rosy cheek has natural qualifications for at- 
taining power, but those qualifications must be predominated 
by a higher quality — Intelligence. 

Beauty, to have force, must be magnetic. Personal Mag- 
netism is the primary requisite to beauty; it is generated by 
the Mental Dynamo: upon this magnetism the facial or physi- 
cal beauty is ever dependent for its power. 

Physical Beauty is a gift in which the possessor can claim 
little instrumentality; Spiritual Beauty is an attainment and 
a stamp of excellence that distinguishes its possessor as a 
Power; the two in conjunction form the Ideal Beauty — a Mag- 
net of illimitable, irresistible force. 



78 



LOVE SUCCESSFUL. 



Success in love is more than to have won it; it is to have 
kept it. 

Possession is but the beginning of success, and to win 
what we cannot hold is of little consequence. 

Love may be won or lost on an impulse, but it requires 
tact to conserve it. 

The horse that leads the first lap does not always win the 
race; it is the horse whose nose is first to cross the tape on the 
linal stretch. 

If we are loved we are fortunate, but have not yet reached 
success in love. The first vision of triumph comes with the 
discovery of that rare ability to conserve it. Only in conser- 
vation lies success. 

Love, impulsive as the sea, ebbs in its zeal at times to ap- 
parent indifference, again bounding to fervid emotion. But 
these are only moods that belong to Love and signify no ma- 
terial or permanent change in the lover. 

Strange, it may seem, with these susceptibilities, that love 
would be desired until we come to realize that Love is the 
beckoning star to which every human soul must look for its 
happiness. O the misery that must attend a loveless soul! 

Love is the balm which soothes monotonous drudgery, a 
comfort that consoles where fortune woud fail to change con- 
ditions. Love develops us emotionally and expands the soul 
to power, the personage to personality. 

Love is the lighthouse which beckons straggling souls to 
a haven of peace, and which, through the fogs of despair, 
signals life's ship to a harbor of safety. 

In every vocation Love is a power. Every man or woman 
v/ho has accomplished great things without Love could have 
accomplished greater things with it. Love adds momentum, 
and no life barren of it is a success. 

The ambition that does not embody love as one of its 
fundamentals, destroys its every possibility of success through 
the lack of foundation. Those who exchange love for mer- 
cenary motives pass blindly in youth over that soul-essential 
for which old age will find them vainly groping. 

Love adds to life its worldly grandeur and preserves youth 
indefinitely. 

Love awakens in us a deeper appreciation of Nature's beau- 



79 



ties, transforms Despair to smiling Hope, and opens Life's 
sweetest buds of Promise. 

Love is the highest tribute of respect. Pure love is never 
unreasonable. A so-called love that encroaches on modesty- 
should be repelled. Pure love creates no occasion for repul- 
sion; it strengthens rather than weakens. Adulterated love 
impairs the sense of refinement of those who indulge it. 

Genuine love is the kind that enhances the fullness of life 
without placing a revenue on morals; it is an investment 
which pays handsome dividends and gives an ample, inex- 
haustible income of happiness. 

Love comes on a mission of happiness, and the success of 
this mission depends upon the sincerity and sacredness with 
v/hich it is received and indulged. 

"A master of love is a great soldier." As the soul en- 
riches in love, so is life enhanced in sweetness and purity. 

Success in love is success in life, since love is but life In 
its perfection — God's masterpiece of handiwork and the most 
beautiful gem of Nature's many settings. 



Confessions sincere of ill deeds done 

Gains confidence more than pretension ever won. 



t^ ti$* 



The man who refuses to meet his wife half way all the 
time during the period of Adjustment, is very apt to find him- 
self meeting her all the way half the time afterward. 



80 



J 



iiisi 



(fitttir^m^te 



"I think that smoking looks so lax," 

Said pious Sister Lackey — 
"When cigarettes are Coffin Tacks, 
The habit must be tackey." 

C^* ^¥ f^^ 

Maybe, Mr. Employer, one reason the employe so often 
tells you the work is too light, and that he must have more 
work or less pay, is because you so often insist that he is 
underpaid and must tolerate an increase in his salary. 

S S S 

"This garment's union-made, you see," 

Said Mr. Habadash Galoot. 
Said Purchaser, "You don't get me — 

I didn't want a Union Suit!" 



A wrinkled stocking can make a very elaborate gown 
look unattractive. 



And it often happens that the mutt you tell with an oath 
not to open his head, is the gentleman who acts on your ad- 
vice by closing both your eyes. 

i5» «^* ^^ 

Carefree — "Save your dimes and the dollars will take care 
of themselves." 

Ben There — "Not when you're married to a somnambulist." 

f^v ti5^ ^^^ 

Goatees don't seem to phase the guy 
Who wears them, but you'll note 

That lookers-on are apt to sigh: 
"Them goatees get my goat!" 

^v t^^ t^* 

If the reporter would lay low and let the neighbors tell It, 
instead of a bouncing baby boy, it would be a sleepless bawling 
brat that ir born to Mr. and Mrs. Sonandso 



It's true, although this pun may be 

A punk sort of a booger — 
We always put sugar in tea 

But don't put "T" in sugar. 

f!^ t^ v^ 

Before they are married, she is worth her weight in gold, 
but there are times afterward that he doubts if she's worth 
the wait he takes on the porch while she is spending an hour 
making good her promise to be ready in a minute. 

t^ f^ Ct^* 

"Clothes make the man," and also break him if he isn't 
a conservative buyer. 

(.^ 5^* t^* 

A man and a mule may have some kindred habits but they 
are instinctively different. You couldn't tow a mule over a 
bridge with a hole in it, but a man will risk dropping into a 
basement full of rotten onions just to get to squirt his Navy 
at a hole in the sidewalk skylight. 

^ J8 C$8 
Our idea of a long story cut short is when the Town Bully 
with a three-reel feature of threats ambles up to a runty little 
man who is nevertheless a professional boxer. 

«^ t^ C(5* 

And while worrying about lost arts, what has become of 
the country lad who never used a comb on week days, and on 
Sunday soaped his hair to make it stand parted in the middle? 

^w 5^ (^5* 

If matrimony were an office whose holders could be im- 
peached, two ledgers would be sold to every marriage license. 
and a trial balance taken every week. 

f!^ 5(5* ^^ 

Now and then a married man or old bachelor gets too 
grouchy to stand a little foolishness, but that doesn't hurt 
the reputation of humanity a bit. The gay old widower 
comes along with enough jolly stuff to make it up and some 
to spare. 

t^ i^ c^ 

Ignorance may be Bliss, but the restraint to remain so is 
more painful than the effort to acquire intelligence would be. 

84 



It depends not so much upon the garb you are in as the 
crowd the other fellow is in, as to whether or not he notices 
you. 

5^% 5^% ^(7* 

It may be that "A wise son maketh a glad father," but 
the glad father usually turns right around and makes a fool 
of the wise son. 

?<5* C^* 5(5* 

Beefing won't reduce the cost of a T-Bone. 

C^ C£^ Ci^* 

Your advisor seldom says "I told you so" when his advice 
gets you in bad. 

t^ ((5* ?«^ 

If men were as shy of a keyhole as a mule is of a stump- 
hole there would be more left to the imagination. 

^,5* <^* ti^* 

When arrested for fighting, Pat Thugme 
Complained to the officer, Slugme, 
"I have no spondulix 
And struck but a fu lix. 
Therefore, I don't think you should Jus me!" 

t^ 5^¥ ^^¥ 

Wood Watkins, though nobly sired, 
Forever complained he was tired; 
He was known as a Bookworm 
And killed by the hookworm — 
He couldn't "get the hook" and expired! 

iV» V7* t^ 

Within his hair lay Sampson's strength 

With which he tore things all to smash. 

But what of that! We've lads today 

Whose Pride vests in a scant mustache! 

c^ c^ '.^ 

Another demonstration that a man doesn't believe in equal 
rights is, that he will let the vegetation take his upper lip and 
still expect his wife to relish his kisses as though they were 
fresh from the lips of a modern Apollo. 



35 



LiBRftRY OF 



CONGRESS 



015 905 419 6 I 



